The Redneck Fishing Guide
by Effigy
Summary: Daryl teaches Carl how to catch catfish.


The Redneck Fishing Guide

What _is _he doing?

Carl had this intense look of concentration on his face. He stood absolutely still in chest deep water. He was determined to contribute to the camp and what better way to gain respect than to provide food? He was going to catch a fish with his bare hands. That's manly right? Unfortunately his quest was not going very well. Fish were quicker than anticipated. He was able to brush up against them several times, but he never grab them. He was getting increasingly frustrated.

Daryl, on the other hand, was quite amused. The kid had no idea what he was doing. He was never going to catch anything. Standing in the middle of the water, diving arbitrarily at fish is just a waste of energy. He couldn't help but to chuckle to himself.

Carl snapped his head in his direction. "Don't laugh at me!"

"Kid, yer never gonna catch anything"

"Yes I am! You just wait..."

And so in between cleaning his crossbow, Daryl waited and watched. For an hour, the boy dove and swam coming up with nothing every time. Daryl watched him become dejected and give up completely. He watched as Carl hung his head and slowly walked out of the water. He continued to look down until he stopped beside Daryl and slowly raised his eyes to look at the older man.

"I just wanted to help. They won't let me shoot. I can't catch any food. What else am I suppose to do?"

_Fuck. _When did this happen? When did he become a person that children became comfortable with seeking comfort from? What did he know about comfort? He had never been comforted a day in his life. And yet there was this child standing in front of him expecting him to say something to make him feel better. And Daryl had nothing.

"Want me to show how to catch catfish?" Daryl hoped his voice didn't sound as unsure as he felt.

"Really? Do you know how to catch them with your hands? I was going to use Dale's fishing rod but he said that it broke a long time ago. Then he just patted me on my head and walked off. I hate that, I'm not a child..."

The kid was rambling. Daryl was regretting this already, but he look too excited to back out now. He knew he was an asshole to everyone, but he couldn't be like that to a kid. Gave him too many flashbacks.

"Shut up, we're losing daylight." Daryl kicked off his shoes and walked back into the water with Carl. "Catfish live in holes and under brush. That's why yer not catching nothing standing the middle of the lake."

They both swam to a pile of fallen sticks and leaves. Daryl probed the area looking for any signs of the catfish. "Ok, stand here and use your foot to find the hole right in front of you. Do you feel it?" Carl gave him a firm nod. "Move you foot around slowly until you feel the fish."

"I feel it!"

"Ok, now you're going to use your hands to trap it until it bites you, then just pull it out."

Carl gave him a look of horror. "But won't that hurt?"

"Just get down there and get the fish."

Carl took a breath to steady himself and slowly lowered himself and shoved his hands into the water. He blindly threw his hands around searching the fish until the felt something slimy and tried to grab it, but it easily slipped through his fingers.

"You best not let that fish go."

Carl began thrashing his hands around trying to grasp at anything he could get his hands on. He was so enthrall in his task that it took him several minute before he saw Daryl watching him with a bemused look at his face.

"Did I lose it?"

"Nah kid, there was never a fish in there."

Daryl wanted to laugh as Carl tried to give him the meanest look he could muster. Poor kid was trying to look intimidating. Daryl just slowly walked along the shoreline, occasionally stopping to check looking for any promising holes. He found a particular good one under a rock ledge. He probed the hole before letting a small smile grace his face. Turning to have Carl do the same thing, he saw the kid standing where he left him, still glaring at him.

"It was a joke kid. Do you want to do this or not?"

Carl slowly walked to Daryl still trying to intimidate him. Daryl rolled his eyes and grabbed him, pulling him in to the hole. "Feel the hole."

Carl didn't move.

"I'm serious, there's a fish in there. It's big and I'm hungry. Yer gonna catch this."

Carl moved and pushed his foot into the mud hole and jerked slightly when he felt the fish move. There is a fish in there! Carl slowly lowered himself, pushing his hands towards the hole.

"You gotta be careful, the fins can cut you. When you feel it bite your hand use your other hands to grab its gills and pull it out."

Carl had his mind set on catching dinner tonight. He wasn't going to let this fish go. He moved his hands forward and brushed the fish again. Cornering it, he kept moving forward until he suddenly felt the fish panic and bite his hand. The fish had his whole hand in his mouth with a death grip.

"Grab the gills!"

He ran his other hand down the fish searching for the gills. He felt one of his fingers get split open as he accidentally hit one of the spiny fins, but he latched on to whatever his hand was on and pulled forward.

Carl felt Daryl grab his arms and help pull the fish out. The catfish began wiggling around, hitting Carl in the face several times, adding another cut above his eyebrow. He felt the fish began slipping away before Daryl yanked it from his hands and threw it on the shore.

"Awesome kid! That's like a 20 lb right there."

"Can we catch another one?"

"Nah, it's getting dark. We best head back to camp. Grab yer fish and get."

Carl grabbed the now dead fish and raced back to back. He had such a proud look on his face. Daryl couldn't help but to smile. He could already hear Carl telling everyone how he caught it. Daryl was tempted to go off on his own for the night so he wouldn't have to deal with the surprised and happy looks people were going to give him for doing something so...dare he say it...nice. But he was damn hungry, so he grabbed his crossbow and shoes and headed back to the camp.


End file.
